That was quite nice, actually.
As promised yesterday, today was a Sylt day. That is, we took the cars and made our way to Niebüll and then we were like "What." and suddenly my brother in law paid an almost three figure sum and the cars and we were sitting on a car train to Westerland/Sylt. Like, we were sitting in the car and the car was on the train and we were going to Sylt. It was like how did that happen why didn't we Google this before? But then again, the part with the train was probably the most fun part of the day... (we were in two cars, one directly behind the other and it was perfect for some sisterly pantomime to the songs from the radio. We're insuffrable for everyone not related to us by blood or marriage.)
When we arrived, we decided to go to Kampen, a village about 10 km away from our starting point Westerland because we thought it might be less crowed (because it's even more exclusive than Westerland). It wasn't (probably because it's more exclusive. They have a Hermés store in one of the typical Sylt houses. It's ridiculous.) and I swear I have never seen such a big aggregation of big, shiny, expensive cars in such a small space. It was like every car there (except ours and that of a few natives) was big, shiny and very, very expensive. Porsche Cayenne was kind of a mainstream car there.*
But we had sun, lots of sun and beach and a bit of wind and sea (I think that was because on our side of the island, there was no tide. Either that or we were very lucky that we didn't have to walk 2 km to see some water) and the food was great (I had herring à la bonne femme (Matjes "Hausfrauenart") which is very fancy for matjes with apples and cream and I loved it) and we made lots of great pictures which look like I might look actually nice in them for once.
After that, we went on the drive home, back on the train, back to the hotel and dinner in a small Frisian restaurant. Me: "I think I'd like to try the baby turbot with butter, capers and rosemary potatoes. But I'm pretty sure it's an entire fish." Family: "Nah, it's just filet, don't worry." Me: "Okay. I'll have the baby turbot, please." Waiter: "Okay, here's your fish." Me: "I will never, never let you convince me of anything again, family." At least the damn thing was delicious and didn't have eyes to stare at me anymore. For the record, the lamb filet my sister and my brother in law had were great, too. Also, I finally had Rote Grütze, so we can definitely call the vacations a success.
Tomorrow, we'll hopefully have a look at seals (the animals) and then go back to Berlin. Keep your fingers crossed for the seals!
*for the non-German readers: Sylt is said to be a favorite island of the rich and famous in German, kind of like Martha's Vineyard in the US only less classy and probably a bit less pricy but you still pay a double-figure price for food that costs a lot less in a lot less posh places
When we arrived, we decided to go to Kampen, a village about 10 km away from our starting point Westerland because we thought it might be less crowed (because it's even more exclusive than Westerland). It wasn't (probably because it's more exclusive. They have a Hermés store in one of the typical Sylt houses. It's ridiculous.) and I swear I have never seen such a big aggregation of big, shiny, expensive cars in such a small space. It was like every car there (except ours and that of a few natives) was big, shiny and very, very expensive. Porsche Cayenne was kind of a mainstream car there.*
But we had sun, lots of sun and beach and a bit of wind and sea (I think that was because on our side of the island, there was no tide. Either that or we were very lucky that we didn't have to walk 2 km to see some water) and the food was great (I had herring à la bonne femme (Matjes "Hausfrauenart") which is very fancy for matjes with apples and cream and I loved it) and we made lots of great pictures which look like I might look actually nice in them for once.
After that, we went on the drive home, back on the train, back to the hotel and dinner in a small Frisian restaurant. Me: "I think I'd like to try the baby turbot with butter, capers and rosemary potatoes. But I'm pretty sure it's an entire fish." Family: "Nah, it's just filet, don't worry." Me: "Okay. I'll have the baby turbot, please." Waiter: "Okay, here's your fish." Me: "I will never, never let you convince me of anything again, family." At least the damn thing was delicious and didn't have eyes to stare at me anymore. For the record, the lamb filet my sister and my brother in law had were great, too. Also, I finally had Rote Grütze, so we can definitely call the vacations a success.
Tomorrow, we'll hopefully have a look at seals (the animals) and then go back to Berlin. Keep your fingers crossed for the seals!
*for the non-German readers: Sylt is said to be a favorite island of the rich and famous in German, kind of like Martha's Vineyard in the US only less classy and probably a bit less pricy but you still pay a double-figure price for food that costs a lot less in a lot less posh places